e to tell me my duty,
especially regarding my child. I have my own plans for her future, and I
will allow nothing to interfere with them. And as for John Darrell, he
has the good, sterling sense to know that anything more than friendship
between him and Kate is not to be thought of for a moment, and I can
trust to his honor as a gentleman that he will not go beyond it. So I
rather think your anxieties are groundless."

"Perhaps so," his sister answered, doubtfully, "but young folks are not
generally governed much by common sense in things of this kind; and then
you know, David, Katherine is different from us,--she grows more and
more like her mother,--and if she once got her heart set on any one, I
don't think anybody--even you--could make her change."

The muscles of Mr. Underwood's face suddenly contracted as though by
acute pain.

"That will do, Marcia," he said, gravely, with a silencing wave of his
hand; "there is no need to call up the past. I know Kate is like her
mother, but she has my blood in her veins also,--enough that when the
time comes she'll not let any childish sentimentality stand in the way
of what I think is for her good."

Mrs. Dean silently folded her knitting and rose to go into the house. At
the door, however, she paused, and, looking back at her brother, said,
in her low, even tones,--

"I have said my last word of this affair, David, no matter what comes of
it. You think you understand Katherine better than I, but you may find
some day that it's better to prevent trouble than to try to cure it."

Meanwhile, Darrell and Kate had reached their favorite seat beneath the
pines and, after one or two futile attempts at talking, had lapsed into
a constrained silence. To Kate there came a sudden realization that the
merely friendly relations heretofore existing between them had been
swept away; that henceforth she must either give the man at her side the
concentrated affection of her whole being or, should he prove
unworthy,--she glanced at his haggard face and could not complete the
supposition even to herself. He was troubled, and her tender heart
longed to comfort him, but his strange appearance held her back. At one
word, one sign of love from him, she would have thrown herself upon his
breast and begged to share his burden in true woman fashion; but he was
so cold, so distant; he did not even take her hand as in the careless,
happy days before either of them thought of love.

Kate could en